


are you cold?

by scorpiusismypatronus



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Cats, Drug Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hair Dyeing, Hurt/Comfort, I fkn love italics ok, I wanted to see if I could, Implied/Referenced Self Harm, Inappropriately Timed Jokes, M/M, Mutual Pining, PTSD, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sick Fic, Snapchat, Suicide Attempt, Tea, They're 19, and I could, but no actual vore gjdkdfkjdk, fluff/angst, gotta give everyone some of that Childhood Trauma™, it counts as childhood trauma till ur 25 apparently, jared loVES cats, lots of vore jokes, making fun of trump, nsfwish at the end?idk, so ??? fun fact, the no homo gods need to be respected y’all, this got darker than I intended and IT STARTED OUT DARK, this is the longest fic I've written w/o the f word in it im
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 16:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14794415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiusismypatronus/pseuds/scorpiusismypatronus
Summary: Two boys, a suicide attempt, tea, hair dye, and actually communicating emotions for once





	are you cold?

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably the most self indulgent fic I've ever written and /all/ my fics are self indulgent wow
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> they gay

Taking walks at night by the lake was, apparently, only peaceful when you _didn’t_ run into your old best family friend’s body floating unconscious on the water, barely staying above the waves.

Evan wasn’t in the mood to admit it, but he may have screamed. Just a little bit.

And then he jumped into the lake, cannonballing into the water and grabbing Jared, pulling one of his arms over his shoulders and holding him close to his body with the other, before, with a whispered prayer, grabbing for the railing of the bridge.

He managed to grab the rail, but he hit his head so hard he saw stars. 

As carefully as he could with shaking limbs and blurry vision, he threw Jared up onto the bridge and climbed up after him, his head throbbing.

He pressed two fingers to the side of Jared’s neck. His heartbeat was there, but faint. He held his cheek just above Jared’s mouth, trying to tell if he was breathing.

He was, but not well. Evan’s heart raced in fear the longer he had to wait between Jared’s breaths.

Evan became aware that he was on his way to becoming the main character of a ten year old’s horrible fan fiction. Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was pretty much his only option.

Carefully — ignoring his blushed cheeks and racing heart — he lowered himself down over Jared, pressing his forearms into the planks of the bridge, ignoring the black spots dancing in his vision.

He pressed his lips to Jared’s, breathing air into his lungs and trying to keep himself conscious as well. 

It took two minutes before Evan felt Jared breathe on his own and he jolted up, propping up Jared’s head and neck on his lap.

The second Jared came to he turned his head and coughed up lake water onto the bridge along with — blood? 

“Jared?”

The other boy flinched so violently Evan would’ve thought he’d been electrocuted.

“…Evan?”

“…Apparently?”

Jared laughed a little and then coughed again, shifting his head so he wouldn’t get it on Evan. _The guy’d only just come to and was already thinking of him_?

Jared shifted up, leaning against Evan’s shoulder, still coughing a bit.

Evan figured he’d approach the subject delicately. “What the hell happened to you?”

Jared turned his head, resting it against Evan’s chest. “I need water first.”

Evan rested his chin on Jared’s head. “Think you can stand up?”

“Probably,” Jared said, stumbling up and holding out a shaky hand to Evan, who stood up and pulled off his sweatshirt, draping it around Jared’s shoulders.

“Let’s get you to my house and make sure you’re okay before we talk,” Evan said. Jared sighed and then coughed again. 

Evan hurried down the street with Jared by his side, watching the other boy carefully to make sure he wouldn’t fall while ignoring the black spots still spinning in his vision.

“You okay?” Jared asked.

“Yeah,” Evan said. “A little dizzy, but it’s okay.”

“Why’re you dizzy?” Jared shivered and pulled Evan’s sweater closer to him.

“It’s fine,” Evan evaded, turning onto the path up to his apartment building.

“No, really, what happened?”

“I hit my head a little getting you out of the water but it’s fi—”

“Evan!” Jared stopped and stood on his toes. “What part hurts?”

“The top, to the front, like right above my right eyebrow I guess?”

“Bring your head down here, I’m short,” Jared said, craning his neck. Evan ducked so he could see.

“Oh, shit,” said Jared. “Yeah, that’s not looking great; it’s a bit bruised. Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s fi—”

“Evan, please.”

“I’m a little dizzy but it’s okay.”

“…Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_. Let’s go, you’re shivering.” He was.

Evan held the door to the building and wrapped an arm around Jared to keep him warm as they rode the elevator.

Once they got to his apartment Evan gestured to the couch. “Sit down, I’ll get you some tea and a blanket and whatever else you need…?”

“Emotional support?”

“Already implied,” Evan smiled softly, slipping into his bedroom and pulling out the fluffiest blanket he owned and giving it to Jared before sliding into the attached kitchen and starting up the water boiler.

He sat down next to Jared, leaning against the couch. “So,” he said.

Jared blinked sleepily at him. His glasses had, miraculously, stayed on his face, but he took them off for a moment before putting them back on. “So.”

“What the hell happened to you?” He asked.

“I got wet,” Jared said. Evan laughed a little but cut off as he realized — “I’m the worst friend ever — I totally forgot — I can get you dry clothes if you need?”

“You’re fine,” Jared mumbled. “But yeah. Clean clothes would probably be good.”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Evan asked.

“Yeah,” Jared said. “You’re good.”

Evan smiled gently. “I’ll be right back.”

The second he entered his room he felt a tear slip down his cheek. _What the hell_?

He dug through his closet, finding the smallest pair of pants he owned — a light pair of jeans — and the softest shirt he had, an orange hoodie. He brought both to Jared, who giggled a little bit into the blanket. “You’re so much taller than m— are you crying?”

“No,” Evan lied, turning as the water boiler dinged and pouring two cups of tea. “You can put them on — the bathroom’s like three steps away to the left.”

“I'm going to ask you about this later,” Jared said.

Evan shrugged wordlessly, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand and dropping teabags into the mugs. He brought them to the coffee table by the couch and sat down, curling in on himself and trying to figure out why he was crying.

He heard the bathroom door creak open and Jared stepped out, absolutely swimming in Evan’s clothes. The jeans dragged on the floor even though Jared had folded the ends up a couple times. The sweater was orange and the sleeves went down past Jared’s hands.

It was adorable.

“Hey,” Jared said, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey,” Evan said.

Jared sat down and pulled the blanket over both him and Evan, sipping the tea and then putting it down.

“So what happened exactly?” Evan asked for the third time.

Jared laughed sardonically. There wasn’t a hint of happiness in his face. “I tried to off myself.”

It took a second for Evan to understand what he’d said. “What? Why?”

“‘Cause everything’s shit,” Jared said flippantly. “It’s not like I have a reason not to.”

Evan took a couple breaths, trying to figure out what to say, but what he planned wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “What happened... throughout all this?” He gestured to nothing, to everything, to the time they’d spent apart and all the years they’d been best (family) friends.

“I’m homeless and depressed and I’ve got no friends — what is there for me?”

“Jared, you — if you want to, you could blow all of us away,” Evan said, trying to put into words the way he felt without giving too much away or quoting Hamilton. He’d failed _at least_ one of those points.

Jared leaned against him, sighing. “I still wish I was dead right now.”

Evan wanted to lean over and kiss his forehead but he couldn’t do that — he’d never been great with the societal pressure to conform to the dictums of the No Homo gods, but he was pretty sure that crossed whatever line there was. Instead he just mumbled, “I’m sorry, Jared — I’m sorry —” his voice broke and Jared glanced up at him. 

“What's wrong?”

“I'll get to that later. I'm gonna tell you something my mom told me after — well. There’s something I should. Tell you.” He cleared his throat and searched for the right words. “I— when I broke my arm, back in our senior year, remember? I told you I fell out of a tree.”

“Didn’t you?”

Evan shrugged, wrapping his arm around Jared to pull him closer, wondering if this was the point he should tell the No Homo gods to piss off. “Yes and no. I — the thing is. I didn’t fall. I let go.”

“ _Oh_.” A couple silent seconds went by before Jared mumbled, “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Most of the time, I am too,” Evan said. “When I — well, I didn’t even tell my mom, she figured it out, honestly — she told me that someday, it’d all seem so far away. And even now I — it does, you know? It was all a long time ago and it hurts every day but it hurts less? I don’t know — this isn’t making sense — I’m sorry —”

“Evan. Ev. You’re good. You’re fine.”

“I—”

“Ev. How have you… been?” Jared asked awkwardly. 

Evan felt himself slip into Turbo Anxiety™ mode — the one he was in while talking to people he didn’t know. “I-I-I’ve been good — I took a gap year — I’ll be w-working at Pottery Barn for a couple more months if — if you’re looking for overpriced home decor, um… I just moved here a couple weeks ago — um. I’ve been pretty focused on scholarships and stuff recently? Um. How have you… been?”

“I’ve been, uh…” Jared snorted a little bit. “It’s been horrible, honestly? My parents kicked me out a couple months ago for being gay and in an odd twist of fate it’s me, not Connor Murphy, who’s sucking dick for drugs.”

The thought filled Evan with anger. Obviously it was Jared’s body and he could do what he liked with it, but if any of them had hurt him in any way he’d find them and kill them — and, wait, was Jared gay?

“I was hyped up on drugs for a while and weed most of the time too —” Jared coughed violently. “I'm so cold — I got a couple applications accepted from a couple schools —”

Evan wrapped both his arms around Jared and the other boy leaned back into his chest, shivering a little bit. He kicked a leg over one of Jared’s, locking the two of them together and the No Homo gods out in one action.

“You’re so warm? Like a human heater,” Jared commented, leaning against his arm and sipping at his tea again. 

“You’re cold,” Evan commented. “It balances out, though.”

“Thermodynamic equilibrium.”

“What?”

Jared hummed in response, running a finger along the threading of the couch. “I'm tired.”

“I can tell,” Evan said, amused.

“Thank you,” Jared whispered.

“Well — yeah?” _You were my best (family) friend for years — and what kind of demon would leave someone to die anyway_?

“No — _thank_ _you_.” Jared’s voice was barely audible and saturated with exhaustion.

Evan ran his fingers through the other boy’s wet hair. 

He’d fallen asleep so fast, Evan marveled. One moment he was talking about dick-sucking for drugs and the next he was asleep on Evan's lap — _Jared was asleep on Evan’s lap_.

Evan sighed. Jared had definitely lost some of his arrogance and snark over the year, but with it he’d lost something else. He didn’t know what. He seemed… sadder, more defeated.

Evan didn’t like thinking of him as someone who could be defeated by life. This was _Jared Kleinman_ ; he should be able to do anything. His superhero name when they were nine was _Omnipotent98_ , for God’s sake. 

Very carefully so as not to wake him, Evan leaned down and brushed a kiss across his forehead. For good luck. To translate the way he felt into an action.

Not because he liked Jared, though. Not because of that.

—-—

“Shit,” Jared said.

Evan stirred. He was only half awake, having just been drawn out of sleep by the sensation of pins and needles in his left arm.

“Hm?” Evan asked, moving his pinky and wincing when it shot a wave of tingles down his arm.

“I didn’t mean to — fall asleep on you — literally —”

“You’re good. It’s all good, my guy,” Evan mumbled, moving his wrist and grimacing. “God, my arm’s asleep, I’ll _eat_ it if I have to, shit.”

“Don’t vore your arm,” Jared requested. 

Evan blinked for several seconds in pure disbelief and then snorted. “Don’t _ever_ say that again.”

“What did I say?”

“What?”

“What? I forgot — what I said?”

“Oh. You told me not to vore my arm.”

“It’s good advice,” Jared said.

“You feeling okay?”

“It’s too early,” Jared dismissed before falling into a coughing fit. “I'm doing great.”

Evan pressed a couple fingers against Jared’s forehead. “You’re hot. Like. Temperature-wise. I mean — _not_ that I — it’s — I walked right into that one,” he admitted as Jared laughed. _I'm not wrong, though —_ I _MEAN_. 

Evan sighed. “Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

Jared shook his head a little bit against Evan’s chest. “My throat hurts.”

“Tea? Ibuprofen?”

“Sure,” Jared said. 

Neither of them moved.

“I'm gonna have to get up,” Evan mumbled into Jared’s head, unwilling to move. And then, quieter, “I've missed you.”

Jared shifted off of him, sending himself into a coughing fit. 

Evan stood up and Jared grabbed his wrist, pulling him lower. “I've missed you too,” Jared murmured. Fighting the blush that threatened to overwhelm his cheeks, Evan asked, “What kind of tea?”

Jared tilted his head a little. “Strawberry?”

“Sounds good.”

Evan didn’t know there could be sexual tension involved in asking for tea until that exact moment.

…Or maybe that was just him.

He wandered into the kitchen and hit ‘start’ on the water boiler, digging through the cabinets until he found the ibuprofen. He poured a cup of water and brought it to Jared, dropping the pills in his hand.

“Thanks,” Jared said, throwing the pills back and chugging the water.

The water boiler dinged and Evan ruffled Jared’s hair before bringing the cups over, placing a tea bag in each one.

“So,” said Jared, pausing to cough into his elbow, “How’s your year been? Meet any gals? Guys? Non-binary pals?”

“…No…?”

“Any pets? Any regrets?”

“Yes and yes — also, you should write a song. Pets and regrets.”

“That’s the name of my soft pastel grunge band,” Jared grinned. “So, pets? Regrets?”

“I have a cat named Mikey and my mom got a dog named Blake.”

“ _There’s a cat?!_ ” Jared screeched.

“Yeah, he’s downstairs somewhere, do you want me to go ge—”

“Please?” Jared begged.

His enthusiasm was adorable. “Sure. I'll be right back.”

Evan took the stairs two at a time, softly calling, “Mikey? Hey, Mikey?”

The cat padded forward a couple seconds later and Evan smiled at her, holding out his arms for her to climb up into. She did, with only minor scratches, and he carried her up the stairs, resting his chin on the cat’s head.

Jared’s gasp was rough but excited. “MIKEY!!! You must be Mikey!” He cooed, holding out his arms to the cat. Evan didn’t miss the scars and scratches up his wrists but chose not to comment, instead dropping Mikey into the arms of a beaming Jared.

“You’re just the best boy ever, aren't you? You're so sweet,” Jared rambled. “You’re just the best kitty ever, aren’t you, Mikey? I love you so much.” He pressed his nose to Mikey’s and the cat petted his cheek with a paw, to which Jared gasped softly and blinked back tears. “You’re the sweetest baby boy, right, Mikey? Aren’t you the sweetest? Aren't you such a good boy?”

“That’s what he said,” Evan mumbled under his breath. Jared turned to glare at him, a smirk fighting to appear, before going back to sweet-talking Mikey. “You _are_ the best kitty, right! Evan’s a bad, bad influence, isn’t he? Making crude jokes over there while I’m petting you, isn’t he? You're a good boy, Mikey, such a good boy! Oh yes you are,” Jared babbled, now face to face with Mikey again. Evan was embarrassed to admit that it was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen.

“You’ve just got the softest fur, now don’t you?” Jared asked, petting his head as he purred. “You’re such a soft boy, you’re so cute, right, Mikey? You’re the cutest kitty in the world…”

Jared planted a kiss on the top of Mikey’s head. Mikey licked at his cheek and Jared started flat-out bawling, a huge smile on his face as he pet the cat.

“I love you, sweetie, so much, Mikey, you’re the best kitty ever, did you know?” Mikey purred again. “Evan’s the best cat-owner ever to let me pet you, you’re so sweet, sweet little angel, Mikey, I love you, you’re such a good boy…”

His impulsive thoughts’ input on the situation? He should _definitely_ call Jared a ‘good boy’ at some point. _I’m not going to do that, Sharon, now let me watch him pet the cat. This is adorable_. Evan tried really hard not to imagine the way Jared’s face would flush if he did. _NO — we aren’t doing this today_.

“You’re a sweet little kitty, I wouldn’t vore you, you’re such a good b—”

“What the hell?”

“I _KNEW_ you weren’t listening anymore!”

“Jared, please don’t vore my cat.”

“Things I never thought I’d have to be told.” Jared directed his attention back to Mikey. “You’re the best boy in the world, you’re so sweet, honey, you’re the best kitty _ever_ …” Mikey had nestled his head on the hollow Jared’s neck and Jared seemed perfectly content to keep him there.

“Ev, I think he’s sleeping,” Jared whispered. Evan slid over to the couch to check, leaning back against the cushions.

“He is,” he confirmed. “He’s normally pretty shy, he must have really liked you.” Evan had long since accepted his fate as a huge liar. Mikey was one of the most sociable cats you’d ever meet. Honestly, he just wanted to see the smile that spread across Jared’s face.

“Am I special, Mikey?” He whispered, petting the cat again. “Did you like me?”

Evan grinned and ignored his heart growing warmer.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m at Mikey’s house and his human Evan.”

“Don’t say it that way.”

“What? I'm just telling the truth — this is Mikey, he’s your owner—”

“Shut _up,_ ” Evan laughed, reaching over and scratching Mikey. “This is a pure kitty.”

“Not now that you’ve made ‘that’s what he said’ jokes around him!”

“I don’t have a filter before I have caffeine.”

“I noticed,” Jared grinned, nudging him before growing quiet again. “Anyway, I’m gay.”

“Me filling any silence ever.”

“You’re gay?”

“You’re an orphan? I’m an orphan! I’m bi,” Evan said.

“Stop quoting Hamilton or I swear to God I will end you.”

“Hey, Jared? Talk less, sm—”

Jared growled and kept Mikey safe on his chest with one hand, the other shooting out to cover Evan’s mouth and missing, flying past his face and ending with a red-faced Jared looking upside-down at Evan with his arm bent at a funny angle over Evan’s shoulder and a cat still clutched to his chest.

It was a hilarious image and Evan grabbed his phone, taking a picture before helping prop Jared back up.

“Mean,” said Jared as Evan sent the photo to Alana, captioned, “ _he was mad bc I wldnt stop quoting hamilton can u believe—_ ”

“You’re so mean,” Jared said again, laughing and petting Mikey’s head.

“Yeah, well, you stole my cat, so I mean.”

“Yeah, well, you stole my heart, so I mean.” What he’d said seemed to dawn on Jared a second later because he added a rushed, high pitched “NO HOMO” and buried his face in the cat.

Evan cracked up. “That’s the biggest mood in the world, honestly. Now will you give my cat and my heart back? Being a thief isn’t nice.” A second later he realized what he’d said. “I MEAN—”

“Let’s end the conversation right here,” Jared said. “It's going nowhere.”

“Good idea.” Evan reached forward and took a sip of his tea. “Anyway, I like dudes.”

“Same,” Jared laughed. “Pass me my tea?”

Evan did, careful not to spill it on Jared or the cat. Jared took a sip. Evan found himself wondering if, were they to kiss, the taste of Jared’s strawberry tea would go well with Evan’s peach tea.

He elected to ignore this thought in favor of holding the mug for Jared while he adjusted Mikey.

“I can’t… hold him anymore…” Jared realized, looking like his hopes and dreams had all just been crushed.

“I’ll hold him for you,” Evan said, “and you can still pet him, okay?”

“M’kay,” Jared said reluctantly. As carefully as he could, he gave the cup to Jared, who let the cat slip into Evan’s hands. Evan cradled Mikey against his chest, the cat stirring slightly but not waking up.

“Good kitty,” Jared cooed. Evan smiled and rubbed Mikey’s head for him. “Anyway, um — we should probably — talk about things? Or something? At some point?”

“Yeah?” He asked, mind racing to worst-case scenarios even though he knew how unlikely they were.

“Yeah. Um,” Jared reached over to pet Mikey. “First of all, um, I honestly thought I’d never see you again? But I still have, um.” He reached into his pocket and then sighed. “Right, I don’t have my phone. But I wanted to call you or text you or email you and fix everything that had happened… so often?” Jared shrugged and turned so he was leaning against Evan. “Just to say I was sorry? Although the whole thing _was_ kinda your fault.”

“It was,” Evan admitted, and even he was surprised to hear himself saying the words.

“Wait, no, I was kidding,” Jared said. “I started the whole thing.”

“That’s true, but I could’ve backed out at any point. Everything after that was me,” Evan said.

“But I started it—”

“I didn’t have to take your advice. I did, and I kept taking it. That’s not your fault. I could call up our dear Tweeter right now and tell him to nuke Korea, but it’s on him if he does or not.”

“Did you just call Trump ‘our dear Tweeter?’”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s wonderful. I still blame myself, though.”

“You’re not allowed. I make the rules,” Evan said.

“Thanks for your honesty, but I’m breaking the rules, because it’s still my fault.”

“I already told you it wasn’t—!”

“But it _is_.”

“But—!”

“Anyway,” Jared said. Evan huffed. “I have a list of things to say and I gotta visualize it, gimme a moment — oh! I have more to add to the ‘sorry’ point — I know I was, to put it eloquently, a huge dick in high school, and I wanted to say sorry for that too. Some of it was just me lashing out at other people so I wouldn’t lash out at myself, a lot of it was me projecting my insecurities onto other people, a bit of it was sarcasm I took too far… but none of it was okay, so I just — I had to say sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Evan mumbled, shifting himself so Jared’s head was resting high enough on his chest that he could rest his chin in Jared’s hair and handing Mikey to Jared.

“Can I ask a question?” Jared asked.

“You just did, but go ahead,” Evan said, the joke weak but still making Jared laugh a little. 

“Well, I have another now, but… about Connor — if the letters — if they’d been real, would you and him — I know I joked about it a lot, but — would the two of you actually have dated?”

Evan laughed a little. “ _No_ , Jared — he was _not_ a good person in real life. And someone who abused Zoe wouldn’t’ve been my type, especially in senior year when I was still obsessed with her.” He paused, before adding, “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Jared said, his words slurred and near-indistinct. “My second question: why were you so obsessed with Zoe?”

Evan hummed lightly, contemplating his answer. “I… it was never really about _Zoe_. It was about what she had, or what I thought she had. I idealized her, you know? She was the gorgeous rich girl with the perfect family and the perfect friends and the perfect life. And then there was me, a seventeen-year-old acne-ridden teenager with no money, living with only my mom, one family friend… she was what I wanted to be, y’know? And then I started to realize that she wasn’t the goddess I’d made her out to be and… it would’ve crumbled anyway, our whole relationship was built on lies — but I knew it would break soon after I realized she wasn’t as flawless as I’d always thought.”

“Oh,” Jared said. “It was… the idea of her, not actually _her_.”

“Exactly. So now do I get to ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Shit, I didn't think I’d get this far,” Evan quipped, trying to figure out how to ask about the scars he’d seen up Jared’s wrists.

There was no real delicate way to bring that up, was there?

“I —” he’d not decided what he was going to say yet but decided to go for it anyway, blurting out, “Should I just assume the scars on your arms were from kinky rough sex with a porcupine?”

Jared snorted. “Yeah. No, I… it’s just been a bad year.”

Evan leaned into him, vaguely wondering how many lambs he’d be sacrificing to the no-homo gods later. He wrapped both arms around Jared and rested his chin on the other boy’s shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well, I _wasn’t_ going to blame myself but now I will — it kinda is my fault.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It kinda is?”

“Okay, and it’s my fault that we got into the shit with the Connor project.”

“No it's n— _oh_.”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree, then,” Evan said.

“Okay, but you’re wrong.”

Evan laughed affectionately, ruffling Jared’s hair. “I’m right, but okay.”

Jared began to say something but fell into a coughing fit a second later, shaking a little bit. “It hurts from coughing,” he mumbled, clearing his throat again.

“I'm sorry,” Evan mumbled. He didn’t want Jared hurt. He’d take this from him in a second.

His phone buzzed then with a snapchat from Alana. He slid it open to see “ _ur gay_ ” over a blurry photo of a car on the side of the road.

“ _whad I say I dont remember scxkjhfdskjd_ ” he wrote back, nudging Jared into the frame for the picture.

The response came a second later. “ _See thats gay,_ ” this time just over a blank grey background.

She sent another. “ _Why isn't jared answering me I said the g word (gay)_ ”

“ _I dont have my phone u heck -j_ ” Jared typed, positioning the words over a blurry photo of the TV.

“ _Why not_ ”

“ _It’s having sex w ur mom_ ”

“ _What tf_ ”

Evan cracked up and took his phone back. “ _iGnOrE hIm_ ” he typed.

Jared laughed but it sent him into another coughing fit and he turned onto his side, leaning against Evan. “I didn’t read the email until months later. Or check the blog, or anything,” Jared mumbled. “And when I did…”

Evan ran a hand through his hair, knowing he needed time to think.

“When I did I — I felt so guilty, Ev — I still do — I should’ve been there —”

“You’re here now,” Evan murmured. “And that’s what counts.”

“But—”

“Jared,” he sighed, running his fingers through the other boy’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“While I’m spilling my soul,” Jared said, speaking more to the table legs than Evan, “I — I attempted this time because — besides just, y’know, _having depression_ and _being on drugs_ and all that bullshit — god, I was having the worst flashbacks, all the time — I was living my life both here and back in dirty bathrooms and on the streets and — part of me was always back there, just — they had me hooked on amphetamines — I couldn’t go home, I couldn’t get help — it — I — _Evan_ —” Jared’s rambling speech cut off and he took in a breath that was more of a sob.

“Jared, I’m so sorry,” Evan whispered, his mind racing, trying to read between the lines, trying to see if he was reading too far into what Jared was saying. 

“They — god, I —” Jared entwined his fingers in Evan’s, taking a couple breaths before saying, “They slipped the first pill in my food. The second I took on my own. I thought it wasn’t — I didn't know I could get addicted — I mean — I knew it was _possible_ , but it’s possible to get addicted to, you know, _slicing up your arm_ too, so…? But they — with two pills they had me addicted and—” Jared’s breath hitched and sped up, Evan pulling him closer. “There was — they made me buy the pills, right, ‘cause that shit ain’t cheap, and I couldn’t get it myself, you know? And there’s no good legal way to suddenly get your hands on thousands of dollars a week.” His voice trailed off. “There’s no good legal way to get your hands on a nineteen year old boy when you’re forty-seven, either, but druggies find a way around these things.” The bitterness was tangible.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, at a loss as to what to say.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

“No it’s not — Jared — don’t think for a second that it was.”

“If I hadn’t come out I wouldn’t’ve been kicked out and I wouldn’t have started going to clubs and I wouldn’t have gotten addicted.”

Evan took in a breath, wanting to cry but needing to stay strong for Jared. “Jared. You can blame your parents or capitalism or literally anyone but yourself. It’s not your fault.”

“I still feel like it is.”

“I know you feel that way, but — I mean, the way you _feel_ is real, but that doesn’t mean everything you feel is _true_. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Jared mumbled. “I… thank you.”

“Of course,” Evan whispered.

Jared turned so he was on his other side, looking up at Evan. Mikey had skittered away at some point, God knew when, and it was just them, just Evan and the smaller boy looking up at him and… this was _not_ the time to be thinking about Jared. It was not the time to think about how soft his lips looked or how gorgeous his eyes were — now was not the time to wonder what would be like to kiss him — it wasn’t a good time to realise he could bend down and kiss the other boy — this was _extraordinarily_ bad timing.

Jared sighed and buried his head in Evan’s chest. “It all hurts, Ev. Not even physically, just — having to remember all that? I — it’s been playing on repeat like the world’s worst radio station in the back of my mind since last month when I got out and got sober but it’s all still there — all the memories and the drugs and — most of it, most of it was consensual as anything can be, well, when you’re on drugs and doing it for money, but… there’s those clients, you know, the ones who pretend to give a shit about your rules at first but then they don’t. And they’re not pulling your hair because it’s you’re into it, they’re pulling it because they're trying to _control_ you and —” Jared shivered, the kind of shiver that ran bone-deep, the kind that had nothing to do with the cold, and he leaned closer to Evan. “I can’t stop thinking about it and — I just wanted to be in control of something, just wanted to lose myself in drugs or alcohol or whatever else it was that week but — I lost control and I’ve got nothing left.”

“Hey, hey,” Evan whispered, “No, you’re in control still, see? Right now you could dump a cup of tea on me or decide to start a religion or start practicing law or shave your head. You could try to eat a bath bomb or a crayon — _don’t do that_ —”

“I think it would be good,” Jared said, and Evan almost could have sworn he was smiling. “Love the crunch.”

“ _My point is_ ,” Evan said, affectionately exasperated, “you could. Not that you should.”

“I could dye my hair blue.” Jared looked up for the first time since he’d started soliloquizing into Evan’s shirt. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet still but he was smiling a little bit. “Like, right now. I should.”

Evan blinked. “If you want to, I mean, your choice, but you’re sick and I’m a little worried that you’d try to eat the hair dye.”

“If I promise not to eat the hair dye will you drive me to the store?”

“Sure,” said Evan, slightly dizzy at the conversation’s turn.

“I promise not to eat the hair dye. Pinky promise.” Jared lifted a hand and Evan interlocked their fingers, grinning.

“Do you wanna make a plan or just go for it?” Evan asked. 

Jared was already sitting up. “I’m just going for it—” he bent over, coughing. “My throat really hurts.”

“I'm sorry,” Evan said. “I'd offer you medicine but there’s four more hours ‘till you can take more.”

“This is why I don’t believe in Jesus.”

Evan snorted. “You ready to go?”

“I have never been ready for anything a day in my life, Evan.” Jared said sardonically, staring down at his too-long sleeves and jeans that were dragging on the ground. “Why are you so tall?”

“Genetics?”

“Touché. Shit, I don’t have shoes.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m carrying you through the store,” Evan deadpanned, brushing his hair out of his face. “What size shoe do you wear?”

“An eight. _Women’s_.”

“Do you really think I keep size six men’s shoes around?”

“Why, what size do you wear?”

“…An eleven.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them stared at each other before bursting into laughter at the pure ridiculousness of the situation.

“Y-your shoes from when I found you, do you think they’re dry?” Evan laughed.

“Probably not, but I’ll check,” Jared said, slipping across the floor on bare feet. He came back a second later. “They are most definitely still wet.”

“Oh my god. Y’know what, it’s summer, you could probably wear a pair of my flip-flops until we get you some shoes.”

“You don’t have t—”

“Jared, with all due respect, shut up.”

“…That’s fair.”

Evan sighed and kicked over his shoe basket, which was just his Converse, sneakers, and a pair of flip flops. He threw the latter at Jared and tugged the Converse onto his feet.

“Evan, you’re an amazing person which is why I’m compromising my sense of morality here, but — for future reference — jeans and flip flops? They don’t go together.”

“I will eat your shoes,” Evan said absently. 

Jared laughed, ruffling his hair as Evan finished tying his shoes. “All right, let’s go.”

“I call shotgun,” Jared said.

“There’s two of us and I’m driving, Jared.”

“I still call shotgun.”

Evan shook his head, smiling, and rested his hand on the doorknob. “You ready?”

“Yeah, just still waiting for you to give my heart back. Let’s go,” Jared said. 

Evan laughed and opened the door, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered every time Jared said something like that. 

Jared kicked his feet up onto the dash the second he'd sat down. Evan thought it was endearing. He was really the poster boy for “far too deep in love,” wasn’t he?

“Next mission, shoes and hair dye for Jared. Rewards include, but are not limited to, one happy Jared, and one new pair of very small shoes.” Jared narrated as though his life were a video game. It reminded him of Thomas Sanders’ “if my life was a video game” vines. “If you need directions or hints at any point in your mission, poke The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman. DING! Another mission is necessary.”

“View mission?” Evan played along, rolling his eyes and smiling, then blushing because he was smiling.

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to acquire supplies for The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman. Supplies include two of the following three items: lollipops, ice cream, and candy bars; and two of the following two items: ibuprofen and hugs. Do you accept?”

Evan cracked up, brushing his hair out of his eyes and turning onto the street before responding, “Mission accepted.”

“The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman requires assistance!”

“What do you want?” Evan asked, tone making him sound pissed, but the grin on his face stating otherwise.

“What time is it?”

“You can’t see the clock?”

“My neck doesn’t bend that direction.”

“It’s _right there_ , Jared!”

“What time is it, Evan?”

“…Nine fifteen,” Evan sighed.

“Duh-dah-duh! Mission completed! You received one Experience Point!”

“You’re a huge dork, you know that, right?”

“I am completely aware.”

Evan pulled into the parking lot and Jared took his legs off the dash, still grinning. “Mission Get Jared Hair Dye, begin!”

“…This is why our moms made us hang out.” Evan hurried after Jared, who looked, frankly, ridiculous, but, also frankly, like a hot mess.

The two of them raced through the store, probably pissing off the employees, both laughing. Evan was honestly just glad to see Jared having such a good time.

“Hair dye,” said Jared, stopping at the right aisle, and the two of them dug through the different types, Jared holding up each colour to his face and asking if it went well.

Once Jared had picked out the _exact_ shade of blue he wanted, the two of them raced over to the clothes section. Jared became more hesitant, then.

“Jared, I swear, get yourself whatever you want.”

“I don’t wanna use up all your money—”

“Okay, fine. What’s reasonable?”

“Forcibly removing our current president from office?”

“…Well, yes,” Evan huffed. “How about two pairs of pants and four shirts? And whatever else you want because I do not care. I’ve got a job. I have enough money to make sure you have clothes.”

Jared sighed. “Fine. Go buy yourself something nice.”

“I’ve already got you,” Evan quipped, to which Jared mumbled “oh my god” and buried his face in a rack of shirts.

Evan grabbed his phone and sent Alana a text saying simply, “ _alana i'm gay oh no_ ”

Her response was immediate. “ _What did jared do this time_ ”

“ _WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT JARED_ ” Evan sighed and added, “ _he’s just existing too adorably_ ”

“ _Wow my shot in the dark paid off. Good luck kid — not that u need it ;)_ ”

“ _whATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN. ALANA. ALANA BECK_.”

“ _;)_ ”

“A L A N AP H O E N I XB E C K”

Jared came back a few minutes later with just a few things. “I’m back.”

“Nothing else?”

“This is enough,” Jared said determinedly. 

“Now shoes?” Evan asked.

Jared ended up buying a pair of shoes from the kid’s section — red Nikes, and one of the only shoes in the store small enough to fit him. Evan, after only a little nagging, got Jared candy along with the ibuprofen he’d mentioned. Well, he’d say a little nagging — Jared barely had to open his mouth before Evan was grabbing it off the shelf.

“How’re we gonna do this?” Evan asked, suddenly overwhelmed by the task ahead of them. Sure, they were dying his hair. They’d follow the instructions — but there was so much there — and they’d need to gather a bunch of things and —

_Evan, calm down. Deep breaths. You’ve done much bigger things than this before_. Sentiments he’d picked up in therapy swirled through his mind and he latched on to a few, slowing down the whirlwind that was his mind.

“We put it in my hair,” Jared said.

“No, I mean like—” Evan gestured to everything, nothing.

“Depends on how much dye you want on your hands.”

“I don’t mind it as long as it’s not that acid stuff — you know the one that burns your skin off?”

“…No, but that’s not going to happen. It’s hair dye. It’s meant to touch your skin. Okay, so I’ll need — shit, I’ll need a towel and either an old shirt to wear or a towel or I’ll just not have anything but I’ll need at least one towel — and —how long does it say I’ll have to wait with the cap thing on?”

“Half an hour to forty-five minutes,” Evan supplied.

“So like, an episode of Orange Is The New Black or a couple Macdoesit videos or a few vine compilations.”

“…Yes.”

“Am I supposed to have my hair wet or dry?”

Evan squinted at the back of the box. “Wet, apparently. So.” There were many things the No Homo gods would forgive if you sacrificed enough lambs or virgins or both. But being shirtless with your bro in the bathroom with your hands in his hair? That might just be too gay for the No Homo gods’ forgiveness. “I’ll dye your hair if you promise to hold the phone so I can watch over your shoulder.” 

“Sounds good,” Jared grinned. “Now, towels. Do you mind if one has blue hair dye on it for the rest of its life?”

“Honestly I don’t care.”

“Sounds great,” Jared said.

“I’m gonna grab a shirt that I don’t mind getting blue,” Evan said. “Somehow I think this might get a little messy.”

The second he’d left the room he began agonizing over his upcoming death of extreme bisexuality. Had he really just agreed to this? He could barely handle Jared fully clothed, for God’s sake.

He grabbed a plain black shirt from the closet and changed into it, willing himself to be straight for once in his life and not be uncontrollably attracted to his best(-slash- _only_ ) friend.

“All right,” Jared said as Evan entered the bathroom. “I’ll mix the dye if you’ll get a couple towels and a shower cap.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Evan said, standing on his toes to reach the top of the cabinet.

“You’re so _tall_ ,” Jared said.

“I’m not that tall.”

“You’re like ten feet tall.”

“Six foot two, actually.”

“I’M FOUR FOOT TEN,” Jared said indignantly.

Evan laughed and turned around, handing Jared the shower cap. The other boy stared intensely at it for a second. “Towels?”

“No, we’re dying your _skin_ bright blue,” Evan said, grabbing a couple from the closet. “Do you want me to turn around, or…?”

Jared sighed. “It’s fine.” 

Any worry about becoming the poster boy for ‘bi guy with a crush on his best friend’ was immediately replaced with shock when he saw the entire left side of Jared’s body covered in bruises and scrapes.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan whispered.

“It’s nothing,” Jared mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Evan felt pain shoot through him. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

Jared draped the towel around his shoulders silently. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled something under his breath and Evan wouldn’t have pushed it, but…

“Did you just say you deserved it?” He asked. God, he was so sensitive. He felt a lump in his throat.

“Yeah, well. Lying’s a sin, or whatever.” He sounded panicky, his voice high-pitched. He crossed one arm over the other and scratched lightly at the skin of his forearm. Evan recognized the movement; it was something he did a lot.

Evan sat down on the ledge of the bathtub and patted the spot next to him. Jared sat.

“You deserve — all the good things.” It was hard to get the words past the lump in his throat and Jared’s eyes widened. “Don’t cry, ‘cause if you start crying I’ll start crying and then you’ll cry more and we’ll both be crying and it’ll be a big mess.”

Evan laughed a little, rubbing his eyes on the back of his hands and pulling the gloves out of the box. “Is the hair dye done?”

“I think so,” Jared said, squinting at the dye. “Now, do you wanna dump water on my head?”

“I mean, I always do, but sure,” Evan quipped, grabbing a cup from the sink. Jared slid the towel off his shoulders — “so it doesn’t get wet” — and Evan took a breath upon seeing the distinctly fingerprint-shaped bruises on his shoulder.

“Jare,” he mumbled, brushing his fingers across them.

“Wha— Jesus, there’s more?” He asked, looking a little spooked. “I didn’t know about — I don’t remember —” Jared took a breath, closing his eyes, presumably to stabilize himself. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m here now.”

Evan brushed Jared’s hair out of his eyes. “Wanna take your glasses off?”

“Aw, but then I can’t count your freckles.”

Evan snorted. “Wow, the main character of a John Green novel is sitting next to me.”

“I’ll keep them on as long as you promise not to get them wet.”

“I won’t,” Evan said. “You ready?”

“I’ve never been ready for anything a day in my life,” Jared said.

Evan took that as a yes and cupped one hand over his forehead to keep the water from going into his eyes, the other hand pouring the water and rubbing it into his hair.

“It's cold,” Jared whined.

“Yeah, well, so is my heart,” Evan said, but he made sure to make the water warmer for the next cup.

“Better,” Jared said. His voice was light and _this wasn’t the best time to be thinking about Jared_ , especially considering that he was already _half naked and in Evan’s bathtub_ , this was _not_ a good time.

Evan hit himself over the head mentally and worked the water into his hair. “All right, start at the roots and work down, right?”

“Yep. Hairline down, roots down,” Jared said.

Evan slid the gloves on and balanced the cup of dye in one hand for a second before resting it on the bathtub ledge and handing Jared his phone. 

“Vine compilations sound good right about now,” Jared said, clicking on a fifteen-minute one.

Evan knew the first one — “you coulda made me drop my croissant!” — and laughed with Jared, glad to see the other boy so happy.

He painted the dye into his hair, brushing a little bit on and working it in, then moving down, working in sections, getting absolutely lost in it. 

He found himself getting lost like this in a lot of things. What he wanted right now was to get lost in kissing every inch of Jared’s skin — to kiss his neck and shoulder, kiss every bruise to make it better like his mom had always said — _NOT A GOOD TIME_.

Frustrated, he splashed on a little too much and got some on his arm, cussing under his breath. 

“You okay?” Jared asked, pausing the Vine compilation.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna have blue skin for a few days,” Evan said, moving onto a different bit of hair as Jared hit play.

“But make it gay,” said Thomas Sanders’ voice through the phone.

The only way this could get gayer would be if they were kissing. Which Evan wasn’t going to think about. Because he was a good friend. Good friends didn’t think about kissing their good (family) friends.

Ten minutes later he was kneeling in front of Jared — _don’t think about that, Evan_ — and biting his lip, — _don’t think about_ that _, either_ — trying to get the last spot.

“There!” He cheered once he did. Jared paused the video. “You got it all?”

“I think so,” Evan said. “Now we just gotta rub it in and then wait for half an hour to forty-five minutes.”

“There’s a vine comp long enough, I’m sure,” Jared said, laughing. Evan slid behind him and began working the dye into his hair one last time. 

“All right,” he said once he’d finished, sitting cross-legged on the floor, “Let’s go.”

Half an hour to forty-five minutes later found him leaning against Jared’s leg, laughing at yet another video. The timer went off and he flinched at the sound. “All right,” Jared said, flipping the box over. “…I need my glasses.”

Evan handed them to him and he blinked at the box again. “Shampoo, condition, and then I’m a new, gorgeous, blue-haired man.”

“Well, you’re already gorgeous,” Evan said offhandedly.

“I know,” Jared said. 

“You’re not gonna drown yourself in the tub, right?” Evan asked, only half joking.

“Because drowning myself went so well last night,” Jared said dryly. “I’ll do my best. Is there a dry towel…?”

“Yeah.” Evan unfolded himself from the tub and reached into the closet, tossing one to him. “Come out and show me after,” he requested.

“Fashion show,” Jared quipped, and then, softer, “One hundred fifty-seven.”

“What?”

“That’s how many freckles you have. One hundred fifty-seven. See ya soon.”

Evan collapsed in the couch and whipped out his phone. 

Soon, his search history read:

_Counting freckles_

_Crush counted my freckles???_

_What does it mean if a guy counts your freckles_

_gOOGLE HELP_

Evan erased his history, collapsing on the couch with a silly little grin on his face that he didn’t want to admit to as the bathroom door creaked open.

“Does it look nice?” Jared asked timidly, running a hand through the bright blue strands.

Evan tried not to gawk at him because _god_ the blue looked really hot on him — “yeah, yes, I like it.”

“Good.” Jared ran a hand through it again, a smile growing on his face as he sat down by Evan. “Think I can pick up some chicks?”

“Jared, you’re gay.”

“But could I?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Fish for compliments much?”

“Yep! I’m just waiting for my hook to pick some up.”

“The colour brings out your eyes,” Evan said. “It looks gorgeous — if you were a het you could definitely pick up whatever chick you wanted.”

“Continue,” Jared grinned.

Evan sighed, reaching over and running his fingers through it. “Your hair is very soft. And it emphasizes your jawline? Which is nice, and the rest of your face is nice too, of course, I mean, just, all your facial features are in the right spot?” He was painfully aware of how stupid he sounded. “And okay, yeah, you’re tiny, but it’s, I dunno, endearing? Uh, your skin is really soft — that sounds creepy — um — your smile? Is? Um.” He trailed off, wincing. _And there goes that whole ‘pretending I’m not in love with you’ thing_. “Um. Was that enough compliments?” By this point, there was no way his face didn’t closely resemble a tomato. He glanced over at Jared, whose face was also flushed bright red.

“That’s a little gay,” Jared stated.

“I’m a little gay,” Evan muttered.

“You’re actually a very tall gay.”

“I’m not that tall.”

“You’re sixteen inches taller than me.”

“Well, when you — when you say it like that…”

“My point being,” Jared said, “you’re actually a tall gay. I’m the little gay here.”

“True. Sorry,” Evan said.

“For _what_?” Jared asked, sounding close to laughter.

“Um.” Evan gestured to nothing. “That?”

“…You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“ _Nevermind_ ,” he mumbled, burying his head in the couch cushions.

“‘Cause if you’re gonna apologize for complimenting me, don’t,” Jared said, laughing a little. He added something under his breath and Evan hesitated before asking, “…What?”

“Um,” Jared said, clearing his throat, “I said if you’re gonna apologize for anything, make it for stealing my heart.”

“That’s a little gay, Jared.”

“Yeah, well,” Jared shrugged.

“Question,” said Evan, biting his lip and shifting his face out of the couch. “Are you being… jokey-gay or serious-gay?”

“All of the above?” Jared said. He closed his eyes, looking as though he was preparing himself for the worst.

“Me too?” Evan said, hoping that made enough sense. 

Jared’s eyes opened slowly. “Really?”

“Um, yeah,” Evan mumbled, sure his blush was firetruck-red.

The two of them stared at each other for a couple seconds before Evan cracked up, brushing a lock of Jared’s hair out of his face and hesitating, fingers just barely brushing his jaw.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked in a whisper, biting back giggles. 

“ _Please_ ,” Jared breathed.

Evan leaned forward and cupped Jared’s face in his hands before hesitating again.

“I don’t… know how to do this,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, me neither,” Jared answered.

God, Jared’s lips looked so soft. Evan bit his own and leaned forward just a little before beginning to laugh. “Oh my god, I’m hopeless,” he laughed.

Jared grinned at him, eyes shining. “Yeah, no shit,” he said, not unkindly. He shifted so his legs were thrown over Evan’s lap and leaned up. “Third try’s the charm?”

“Hopefully,” Evan said.

He leaned forward and kissed Jared the best he knew how, parting his lips and _wow_ , Evan really got the hype now. His lips were as soft as they looked, and Jared let out a little sigh.

Evan pulled him closer and felt starlight in his veins. 

When they broke apart Jared mumbled, “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Evan whispered, and then, because he was a dumbass without a sense of timing: “I did get the ice cream and lollipops, by the way.”

Jared giggled into Evan’s shoulder. “I'm down if you’re down.”

“Let’s go, then,” Evan said.

Jared didn’t move.

“You’re restricting all my movement.”

“I don’t think you mind,” said Jared, but he rolled off Evan onto the floor.

“I don’t, really, it just makes things rather difficult,” Evan said.

In a remarkable feat of both speed and balance, Jared managed to jump on Evan’s back and latch on, attaching himself and resting his chin on Evan’s head.

“…You’ve just made this a thousand times more difficult,” Evan said, ducking down as he crossed into the kitchen and stopped, before saying, “Jared, you gotta get down, there’s ice cream on the line here.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jared huffed jokingly, climbing off his back.

Evan bent down and grabbed the ice cream from the freezer and the bag of lollipops.

“Let’s wait for the ice cream to melt,” Jared said, burying his hand in the bag of lollipops, pulling one out and reading the label. “Ooh, root beer!”

“You’re, like, five,” said Evan, pulling one out as well. “Bubblegum,” he told Jared.

Jared picked the wrapper off and licked the lollipop. Evan found himself suddenly fascinated with his shoes and the wrapper and the walls and, well, anything that _wasn’t_ Jared’s mouth on that lollipop. He just really hoped Jared didn't pick up on it.

It didn’t take Jared that long before he began smirking, still sucking on that stupid lollipop, now _intentionally_ showing off his skills with his stupid gorgeous tongue, rather than subconsciously.

“Stop it,” Evan grumbled, face burning.

“Why?" Jared asked, his smirk growing.

“Piss off,” Evan said.

“No.”

“ _Jared_ ,” Evan sighed. “Cut it out.”

Jared hesitated, probably instinctively, before licking up the lollipop again, this time so obscenely that Evan had to bite down on his tongue and turn away. He threw his hands up in the air and stomped over to the countertop, where he could easily lie his head down and wish for death.

A second later he felt Jared’s hand on his back and refused to look up as he said, “Has no one ever taught you to control yourself?”

“Nope!” Jared said cheerily.

“Someone should get around to that," Evan said, finally pulling him closer and kissing him. His mouth still tasted like root beer and his hair still smelled like hair dye. 

Evan didn't mind.

**Author's Note:**

> “why do you keep traumatizing characters you love, nikolas?” because i'm a sadomasochist. come listen to me cry/cry at me/both on tumblr @dont-the-tears-just-pour


End file.
